Ran into a friend from high school at a music festival, had not seen her in over 2 years. I had a huge crush on her all through high school so I tried to play my cards right to fuck her. We ended up getting drunk and ditched the festival to go back to her hotel. Things got hot and we ended up fucking the night away. We exchanged numbers and planned to meet up when we got back home.

I found out she was married and felt horrible for what we did. She called me one night and asked if she could come over b/c she was feeling horny. She came over, we fucked and she let me cum on her face. She went to the bathroom to clean up when her phone rang, boom i saw her husband calling and finally saw his face. Turns out he was my bully from high school.

I plotted my revenge and tried to meet up with her as much as possible. We got carried away a few times and she let me hit it raw. Got a call a few weeks later that she was pregnant and that it was mine. 8-9 months later she gave birth to a big and healthy baby boy. After seeing photos of the kid I felt a bit uncomfortable at how much we looked alike.

Her and I took a paternity test and confirmed that it was my kid. She decided to keep it a secret from him and never brought it up. 5 years later and they are still together, we don’t hook up anymore but damn....just knowing that man is raising my spawn. I do send her money so that she can buy him things and I have met the kid and spent time with him.

Guess the secret will stay forever as I am now married with kids and a beautiful wife. She also does not know about the situation.

edit

Holy hell this blew up.

Just wanted to add a few details that you guys were asking about. I spoke with “Max’s” mother a while ago about potentially coming clean but she fears that it would and could complicate things. Totally understandable because the guy had a decent stable job as a University professor, takes the kids on frequent trips, spoils them, and genuinely a good dad. Had the situation been different I think I’d be more concerned about getting involved and potentially taking custody of “Max”.

As long as the boy is happy then I am happy. A few of my close friends know and have all advised that I do not tell my wife. I get it, “ you’re a horrible person. You’re trash. You disgust me” but other than this situation we have both went off to live happy lives.

When I started noticing that if I didn't initiate it didn't happen. I never got the call to see if she wanted to meet for drinks after work, all the texts started with me, I would invite her over but never got the invite to her place, etc. Clearly I was inconsequential in her life so I moved on.

Full disclosure, inside of the productive, attentive and proactive man I portray is a boy who doesn't want to do anything or care about anything.

However, at a certain point in my life I realized that I wanted order in my life, and that the chaos in my life didn't satisfy me. I made a choice - or hit a threshold, depending on how you feel about determinism - to value the outcome of taking initiative to turn that chaos into order, over the inherent comfort of allowing that chaos to continue.

It's a sacrifice, and all sacrifices are the act of deferring immediate gratification for an investment in the future. Essentially, changing that value judgement is putting more value on the future and less on the present.

So I started doing the things I didn't feel like doing, but knew deep in my heart were the things I needed to do. You know those things: getting grocery shopping done a few days early, picking up and cleaning up, getting on top of your finances, talking to the people in your family you don't want to talk to, investing time in friends and people for the sake of doing it, getting into the habit of regular exercise.

A person doesn't change by choosing to become a new person, and waking up a new person. We change bit by bit as we try to be a better person today than we were yesterday. In a short period of time, you can see some small results; but if you make this your focus for weeks, years or decades, you'll become an entirely different - and better - person than you would ever have imagined.

You know when you're cutting something on the kitchen bench, accidentally knock the sharp knife onto the floor then jump back in surprise and go "Wow, lucky that didn't hit my foot!"? Yeah, well no such good fortune for me - the knife rebounded off the floor and took a nice slice right across my big toe. I went to Emergency only expecting a couple of stitches but apparently an 80% cut of the tendon means you have to stay overnight and get surgery the next day. It didn't hurt, but the food wasn't the best.